


Healing Too

by saraid



Series: Healing [2]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 11:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14543961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: A continuation of The Healing.





	Healing Too

There was a warm body in his arms. He could tell from the  
muscular contours that it wasn't Tessa -- his mind shied away  
from thinking of her -- but it was there. Soft hair brushed his  
face when he moved it slowly back and forth, eyes still closed,  
unwilling to face reality. 

His head hurt, but he didn't care. He wasn't alone, someone  
loved him enough to let him hold on through the night.

He gently kissed a warm neck, burying his face in the curve  
between neck and shoulder. It felt familiar, and he thought he  
knew that smell. His arms tightened and the firm curve of ass  
pressed against him.

Not a woman. He recognized that fully now. The only man he  
had ever shared a bed with was...

"Connor."

 

Richie felt the kiss, felt the arms around him so strong,  
the erection nestled tightly to his ass, and froze. Panic welled  
up in him, cutting off speech.

He heard Duncan's voice, sleepy-soft, husky, felt it on his  
skin, and his body trembled even as he commanded it to be still.

Duncan repeated the name, a question now, sounding curious.

"Connor?"

Duncan raised himself up on an elbow, still holding tightly  
to the body in his arms, and opened his eyes.

And shut them again quickly, shock flooding him, cooling his  
arousal like ice-water. He pushed himself away from Richie, but  
they had moved to the edge of the bed and he slid off to land on  
the floor with a thump and a groan.

Richie was out of the bed in an instant, coming around with  
a worried look on his face.

"Mac? You okay?"

He looked up, his face flushed with color, pulling the  
blanket down to cover himself.

"Uh, Richie..." he couldn't think of anything to say. Had  
something happened? he didn't remember anything but a quiet voice  
and a pile of empty bottles.

"It's okay, Mac." Richie held out a hand to help him up. He  
swayed and the younger man stepped in to prop him up, keep him  
from falling, turn him back to the bed. "You look a little  
better." He meant that little. Duncan was still pale and his face  
was still shadowed green. "Do you think you could eat something?"

Duncan shook his head and then winced at the sharp pain that  
brought. "I'm sorry, Rich." he tried to find words that would  
tell his protegee' just how sorry he was. "I thought you were  
Connor..."

"I figured." Richie sat on the bed next to him, willing to  
talk about it now that Mac was awake and sober. But Duncan closed  
his eyes and sighed deeply. "Ye should ha' left me in tha'  
bottle." he slumped back on the bed, his arm going out and  
hitting the headboard with a very loud, painful-sounding crack.  
Duncan didn't even wince.

"Mac! Did you break it?" Richie leaned over him to lift the  
arm, an ugly bruise rising, the blue flash of healing spreading  
over it.

"Doesna' matter." Duncan said, and it was almost a groan.  
"Nothing matters."

Richie lay the arm carefully on his chest and thumped Duncan  
on the chest with a closed fist, none too gently.

"If you're going to get drunk again I'm not going to hang  
around to watch." he said it sadly, a bit angrily. "I don't like  
seeing you like this, Mac."

"I don't like being like this." it was hard to admit. "But  
there's nothing...nothing else...that will make it stop hurting."  
he opened his eyes and Richie saw tears in them again. "I want to  
stop hurting, Richie."

Richie had to do something. He lay down beside his friend  
and drew him close, Duncan's head on his bare chest. Not worried  
about what he might think or what he might do. Just wanting to  
help, as much as he could.

Duncan cried again. It seemed like he'd never stopped  
crying, it just hadn't been visible for a few hours. His lungs  
gasped for air and his throat was raw, his fingers dug painfully  
into Richie's shoulders, leaving bruises that healed even as he  
made new ones.

Richie began to worry. This pain was so raw, so  
overwhelming, could Duncan ever rise above it? Would it ever  
fade?

"Shhh." he whispered, one hand in the tangled hair, the  
other rubbing gently on a firm shoulder that shook beneath it.  
"Mac...Duncan. It'll get better. It'll stop hurting." he felt  
stupid saying those things, knowing how insignificant they were.  
Richie had never had someone who loved him the way Tessa loved  
Duncan. He'd never had to face life alone after losing someone.  
"You're not alone. I'm with you. You have friends..." he trailed  
off. Should he try to contact some of those friends? Could Joe  
help him find Connor? Would that help? "Do you want me to find  
Connor? Do you need him?" he asked. In answer Duncan's grip on  
him tightened, almost dangerously as Rich's bones began to creak  
in protest, but he stood it stoically.

"I don't need Connor." Duncan said at last, tears still  
dripping, voice thick, his head now still on Richie's chest. "Not  
if you'll stay with me."

Richie held very still, feeling warm lips soft against his  
skin. He shivered.

Duncan kissed him again, this time with his tongue tracing a  
tiny circle that felt incredibly hot. Richie's shudder wasn't  
faked, but he was torn. What should he do?

Mac looked up at him. Richie's blue eyes were wide, and  
there was fear on his face. With a deep sigh that spoke of loss  
Duncan pushed away from him and sat up.

"I'm sorry. You don't want this." he pushed his hair back  
from his face with one large, square hand. His skin still  
glistened with tears, and he rubbed it awkwardly with the back of  
his hand, like a sleepy child. "I'd better..."

Richie didn't let him finish. Sitting up he took Duncan's  
shoulders in his hands and pulled his face close. His breath  
touched Duncan's mouth as he spoke.

"I want to do whatever will help." he whispered. "Anything  
you want, Mac."

He offered himself up like a sacrificial lamb. Duncan shook  
his head, his hair swinging into Richie's face, tickling.

"Not like that, Rich." he sighed again. "Not just for me."

"It's not just for you." Richie said, and realized it was  
true. He wanted this. The reasons were so mixed up he didn't  
think he could sort them out, but the end result was clear. "It's  
for me too."

Duncan shook his head again. He didn't believe him.

"I know you want to help. But -" he couldn't find the words.  
"- giving yourself to me because you think you should or you   
feel beholden...that's not what I want. I want...to be close to  
someone. To be close to you, to mourn her with someone else who  
loved her." he didn't question, he knew Richie had loved her.  
"Not..."

"Mac." Richie put his fingers over Duncan's lips, an  
intimate gesture that got his attention. "I talked to Tess once.  
About some of the things I did. Things I've done. And how they  
made me feel. She listened, and she still loved me. I never told  
you..." he wasn't sure he could tell him now. "I was ashamed to  
tell you."

Duncan nodded, unable to resist the urge to kiss the  
calloused fingers covering his mouth. Richie sighed and dropped  
that hand to the bed. 

"She didn't betray your trust." Duncan said. "But she told  
me...that you had been hurt even more badly than we thought."

Their eyes met.

"You still carry that pain." Duncan said knowingly. "I would  
never do anything to waken it."

"You can erase it." he almost couldn't believe those words  
had come from his mouth. "Replace it with a new memory. A memory  
of you."

"Rich..." Duncan would have been shocked if his pain hadn't  
been so all-encompassing. He stroked curled fingers against the  
younger man's face, feeling the soft scratchiness of stubble, the  
warmth of his skin, the glow of youth. "I don't know if I can."

Richie understood. He was hurting so much he wasn't sure he  
had anything to give. 

"You will." he assured him, catching the hand and bringing  
it to his mouth to kiss each finger. "It's the way you are."

Duncan's soul was filled with the need to protect, to  
nurture. The inability to have children was a cruel price for him  
to pay. Nobility was hard-wired, an integral part of him.  
Combined with kindness and generosity it made him a sensitive,  
sensual lover. Richie knew he would do his best to make sure they  
both enjoyed it. That no memories would be left when he was done  
but those of him. Without really trying.

"Be sure, Rich." he was begging softly. "Be certain. I don'  
think I can -" he grated suddenly, fighting to keep himself  
still. "- I don't think..." 

"It's okay." Richie lay down, pulling Duncan down with him.  
"I'm sure."

"I don't want to hurt you." Duncan was on his elbows,  
leaning over him, his mouth parted, tongue running over his  
teeth.

"You won't." Richie held himself still as Mac lowered  
himself, feeling that big body hot against his own, glad to feel  
his own erection growing, a good sign. "Kiss me." he said it so  
softly Duncan hesitated, but Richie's hands were behind his head  
and pulling him closer. "Tess always said you were a great  
kisser."

The feeble joke relieved the tension just enough for Duncan  
to do it. His mouth closed over Richie's with a sigh. Lips  
closed, it was chaste, warm and sweet. Then Richie, knowing now  
what Duncan wanted, opened his mouth to him and it became an  
exploration, a sharing, as tongues slid into mouths and both  
tried to pour their souls into that contact. 

Hands began to move. Richie's went to Duncan's back, feeling  
the muscles rolling there as Duncan rocked against him, Duncan's  
hands on his shoulders as he rested on his elbows, his fingers no  
longer hurting, just holding, tracing circles on rapidly heating  
flesh.

Duncan's lips left his mouth to go lower, nuzzling his jaw  
and tongue tickling the shell of his ear, making him shiver  
involuntarily.

Duncan stopped, pulled back a little.

"Rich?"

Richie smiled at him, shyly, and pulled him back close.

"It's okay, Mac...I'm just really sensitive there. I love  
that."

Duncan kissed him and grinned against his lips. Then he  
traced his mouth - his lips were so soft - over Richie's face  
before nuzzling his way to the other ear, eliciting the small  
shivers that he knew now indicated pleasure.

He spent a long time seducing Richie's ears and neck and  
shoulders, until the younger man was breathing fast and shivering  
at the touch of his breath on over-heated skin.

"You are sensitive." Duncan whispered against his pulse,  
feeling the answering shiver.

"I don't think anyone's ever...spent so much time...doing  
that..." when Duncan lifted himself to look, Richie's face was  
flushed, and his sculpted chest was rising quickly.

Duncan lowered his head and flicked his tongue over a nipple  
and Richie moaned softly. So he did it again.

"You like tongues." Duncan observed, lowering himself again  
and beginning to work his way down the smooth torso, his mouth  
and tongue always gentle, always caressing. There would be no  
pain here.

"I - I guess so. I never thought about it." Richie panted.  
Then he tensed and groaned as Duncan dipped lower. "Mac -"

His friend raised himself to look up at him. Richie reached  
a hand to him, beckoning him upwards. He came, but wondered why,  
and Richie saw the look.

"It's okay, Rich." he kissed his nose. "Relax. I'm not gonna  
hurt you."

"I know." Richie held out his arms and they turned to lie  
face-to-face, embracing gently. "It's just...too much too fast,  
ya know?"

"Ah." Duncan's fingers feathered over his face, tracing  
features well-loved. "I'm sorry if I got carried away."

"S'okay." Richie leaned in for a kiss. "Just...go slower."

"Ummm." his friend replied against his lips before prying  
Richie's mouth open with an eager tongue. "Not too slow." he  
whispered as he gained entrance.

Duncan did hold himself back. He reminded himself that  
Richie had been hurt and needed time to let go of that. Even as  
the younger Immortal began to groan rhythmically and thrust  
cautiously against him, he didn't move lower or try to increase  
the intensity. He kissed him and tasted him and stroked him, but  
kept his hands above the waist, never straying beneath the taut  
concave of smooth skin that was Richie's stomach, his hands  
concentrating on face and shoulders and back, tongue and lips  
covering old ground.

At last Richie broke away from the kiss, gasping for air.  
Duncan smiled at him, the pain almost gone from his face.

"Damn, Mac, even I have to breathe sometimes." Richie's  
smile met his. "How do you do that?"

Duncan grinned broadly and propped his head on one hand, the  
other tracing warm circles around Richie's navel. 

"Practice."

The trailing hand stopped, then, softly, went lower, to  
brush against the erection straining the cotton of his boxers.

"Too fast?" half worried, half teasing.

"No...I'm okay. I'm ready." Richie arched into the hand that  
circled him and stroked through the thin cloth. "Oh, man. Mac!"  
he grunted and tried to restrain himself, his hands going to  
Duncan's body, stroking his chest urgently, wanting to do more,  
suddenly afraid. "What do you want me to do?" he panted, his  
hands resting on Duncan's lean hips, feeling the muscle beneath  
them quiver with suppressed excitement. 

"Lie back and relax." Duncan encouraged. He pushed Richie  
gently to his back and lowered himself between his legs, his  
hands sliding the boxers down. He took the minute to push them  
all the way off, he didn't want Richie to feel restrained in any  
way.

Richie resisted slightly when he pushed at his legs gently,  
so Duncan turned his attention to other things. Teasing, he  
trailed his tongue, tickling, along one thigh, then the other,  
turning his head back and forth, letting his hair brush sensitive  
spots. He kissed muscular thighs and nuzzled beneath his knees  
and this time, when he put his hands on them and pushed, they  
spread willingly.

Duncan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, familiarizing  
himself with this man's scent. It was one he knew, but here, now,  
it was subtly different, stronger.

He cupped his balls and rolled them between strong fingers,  
feeling the shiver that coursed through the young man. He lipped  
them and felt it again.

Enough teasing. He wanted Richie to enjoy this and only one  
thing was going to work now. Moving up, he closed his hand around  
the base of his dick -- long and thin, it was silky and hot and  
felt right in his hand -- and closed his mouth over the top of  
it.

Richie practically went off the bed, his back threatening to  
crack as he arched.

Duncan grinned and went to work.

Richie grunted, struggling to retain control of himself, to  
draw out the pleasure. He didn't want Mac to think he was  
easy...the thought brought a grin. Glancing up, Duncan saw it and  
stopped what he was doing to grin back.

"Feel good?" his hand continued the slow pumping, now tight,  
then loose, never settling into a rhythm.

Richie brought his legs up, feet flat, and grabbed his  
thighs with his hands, trying not to explode.

"This is so weird, Mac..." he groaned. "Yeah, it feels  
great...but you stopped."

Duncan's grin grew wider, and he lowered his head again,  
taking just the head of Richie's dick in his mouth, then pulling  
back and rubbing his lips over it. Richie's hands dug into his  
legs, bruising them.

"Mac..." it was a sigh, a moan. "Please....finish it."

Duncan raised himself up again, looking at his former  
student. Richie was panting in short gasps, his hair was drenched  
with sweat and plastered to his head, his body flushed dark. He  
was close, Duncan knew from the swelling in his hand.

Regretfully he released him and pushed back and away,  
sitting up.

Richie's eyes followed him, a little wild.

"Mac? What's wrong?"

Duncan shook his head. His eyes were half-lidded, his voice  
husky when he answered.

"You ready now, Rich?" he raised up on his knees, his own  
erection jutting fiercely between his legs.

"Ready for what?" Richie's arousal half-fled as worry  
entered his voice. 

Duncan's hand, broad and strong and dark against his skin,  
rested lightly on Richie's quivering stomach. Duncan moved up, to  
lean over him and whisper in his ear, his tongue tracing the  
outer rim as he spoke.

"Ready to be in control." his whispered words made Richie  
hold his breath. Duncan's hand went low, stroked fingers over the  
tip of him. "Ready to make love to me."

"M-Mac..." Richie's voice failed him. His throat closed with  
emotion. Duncan waited patiently, paying tribute to his chest and  
shoulders with that wonderful mouth. At last he managed to speak.  
"You don't - you can't - want me to - to -"

"I do." Duncan moved to straddle him, their erections tight  
together as he pressed himself against the younger man, leaning  
to lock eyes, clear blue to deep brown, both darkened with  
passion and other emotions they weren't going to take the time to  
identify. "Does that change how you feel about me?" he didn't  
sound worried, just curious and slightly surprised.

His hands on the bed above his head, his legs bent, trapping  
Duncan between them, Richie was very still as he tried to think  
through the fog of desire that enveloped him.

"But - but - " he couldn't put his objections into words.

"What better way to forget what was done to you?" Duncan's  
voice was seductive, his fingers torturing. "We'll do it in love  
and you'll know it can mean something besides degradation and  
pain." he was making assumptions about what Richie had  
experienced, but knew he'd hit the mark when Richie closed his  
eyes and clenched his fists.

The Richie opened his eyes again, and there was desire in  
them.

"I've never even done that with a woman, Mac." he whispered.  
"I don't know how." 

"I'll show you." Duncan whispered back. They stared at each  
other for a long minute, and then Duncan leaned to kiss him  
deeply, his arms lifting him and going around his shoulders. Then  
he rolled off him and curled on his side next to him, rubbing  
himself against the younger man, feeling how excited he was.

Richie was passive and Duncan reached behind him, searching.

"Rich?" he asked softly. "Give me your hands."

Richie obeyed and Duncan positioned them, one beneath him on  
his hip and the other on his upper thigh, moving it forward and  
pressing himself back harder.

"C'mon, lover." Duncan muttered hoarsely. "Don't just lie  
there."

"What do I do?" Richie leaned over his shoulder to ask in  
his ear. Duncan turned his head and caught half a kiss.

"Whatever you want." Duncan sighed, moving his hips in tight  
circles, encouraging him. "Don't worry about me, I'll like it,  
whatever you do." 

Hesitantly, Richie moved closer, and his erection slipped  
between Mac's cheeks, fitting snugly there. It felt good, so he  
moved, stroking himself against the hot warmth. Duncan made a  
little noise, not quite a groan and he was encouraged.

"Like that?" Richie was whispering into Duncan's ear. "Is  
that what you want?"

"I want more, Rich." Duncan's words were shaky. "Much more."  
his hand took Richie's from his thigh and brought it around to  
just above his crotch, then let go, giving Richie the choice.

Richie understood. His slender fingers closed over Duncan's  
erection and his friend grunted and thrust into it.

"Almost...almost perfect..." he panted. "C'mon, Rich, don't  
tease..."

"I don't want to hurt you..." Richie still hadn't accepted  
this concept.

"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna start hurting."  
Duncan was fighting for control. 

"Mac...I -"

Duncan reached behind him and his hand clamped firmly on  
Richie's ass, pressing him as close as he could, raising his  
upper leg to open himself, urging him with his entire body.

"It's okay, Rich. You won't hurt me." he fought for control,  
found it, and was still, only his chest moving, heaving as he  
gasped in gulps of air.

He wasn't going to beg. He wouldn't make Richie do anything  
he didn't want to.

But right now he wanted this more than he wanted to breathe.

More than he wanted another drink.

That was progress, of a sort.

Richie felt him, tense and waiting. His mind was clouded by  
lust, but two thoughts were sharp and clear.

Mac wanted him to do this.

And the idea turned him on beyond measure.

With a groan he let go of his preconceived notions and  
expectations and blocked out the tiny voice that was screaming at  
him to stop.

He reached down to himself, releasing Duncan's dick, which  
brought a whistled gasp, and guided himself in.

There was resistance. Duncan clung to Richie's ass  
stubbornly, not letting him give up, giving him more leverage,  
even when it was obvious that it was hurting. He raised his head,  
looked at his teacher's face, saw his eyes clenched tightly shut,  
upper teeth clamped on lower lip, drawing blood, face set in  
stone.

But he didn't let go of Richie, didn't stop pushing him on.

It took longer than Richie had thought it would. It was  
clear to him that Duncan didn't do this often, he was tighter  
than any virgin, and that caused an odd tingle in Richie's eyes.  
He closed them to fight it, and then the resistance gave and he  
slid in, completely, his body pressed tightly to Duncan's back.

Duncan lowered his raised leg and curled his knees up.  
Instinctively Richie followed the action, spooning close, and  
wrapped his arm around to Mac's front, where his erection had  
lost some of its urgency, to stroke him gently, until it returned  
with renewed vigor.

Duncan began panting, moving his hips back and forth on  
Richie, just an inch at a time, while Richie matched the rhythm  
with his hand.

"Okay?" he whispered, worried that it was hurting the older  
man.

"Uhhhhn." Duncan only managed a moan that sent a dark shiver  
through Richie, bringing his attention back to what he was  
feeling.

Mac's big body was quivering in his arms, moving. His head  
rolled back to rest his cheek against Richie's, his silky black  
hair fanning over his face as he used Richie for a pillow. Both   
hands went in front of him to brace against the bed at an angle,  
abandoning himself to what he was feeling.

The heat grew in Richie's groin and the pressure was so  
intense he thought he would burst. He could see the absolute  
trust as Mac gave himself up to him, put himself in Richie's  
control and something tore open in his soul. No one had ever  
trusted him like this -- shown him their darkest secret, given  
him the power to hurt them, willingly, even gladly...it made this  
once repugnant act one of love.

He felt what Duncan had meant...he would never be able to  
think about another man without remembering this. By opening  
himself up to him, Duncan had reduced the other memories to dust.

Duncan was groaning loudly now, in time with Richie's  
thrusts. His dick swelled, filling Richie's hand.

His concentration broken, Richie began thrusting more  
forcefully. He still didn't want to hurt him, but Mac seemed to  
like it -- he groaned louder and pumped faster, so Richie  
increased the tempo again and suddenly found himself unable to  
stop, or think, or breathe...

Richie slammed himself into Duncan, part of his mind shying  
away from the violence of it, but the rest screaming for  
relief...the force shook Duncan's whole body and he shouted  
hoarsely, a name.

"Richie!" 

Richie's hand was suddenly covered with hot, thick liquid.

The contractions of Duncan's powerful muscles around him yanked  
him right over the edge and he came, shuddering, biting Mac's  
shoulder to smother the scream he felt rise in him, clinging to  
Duncan like a lifeline, trying to wrap himself around him, to  
smother him with his body....

Duncan panted, and gasped, and finally managed to draw a  
deep breath. He let it out with a long sigh.

He was still splayed backwards, half rolled over Richie,  
sweat pouring off him.

He waited patiently, letting his breathing get back to  
normal, feeling Richie still within him, wilted but present.  
Richie's hands were both on him, one still holding his collapsed  
dick, the other glued to his chest, covering one nipple with his  
palm, a patch of inexplicable heat.

When Richie didn't speak he began to worry. Suddenly  
awkward, he rolled off, pulling himself free, and onto his  
stomach, pillowing his face sideways on crossed arms, watching  
his friend through the curtain of dark hair.

Richie had his eyes closed. He rolled all the way to his  
back when Mac pulled away and now lay flat, one hand on his own  
stomach, the other stretched across the bed on his other side,  
legs still trembling slightly with aftershocks.

Tentatively Duncan reached out with one hand, adjusting his  
face on the other arm, and lay it over Richie's on the younger  
man's stomach.

Richie shivered, but then a corner of his mouth turned up in  
a smile and he turned the hand over to grasp Duncan's and squeeze  
it.

Relieved, Duncan smiled as well, and closed his eyes.

In his mind he pictured Tessa. Pain welled, but it was  
mellower. It filled him, but now he could feel her love as well.  
He'd gone looking for it in a bottle and found it in Richie's  
arms.

He sighed. He felt movement beside him, and felt Richie's  
hand slip from his when the younger man rolled off the bed.

Duncan let his hand lay where it had fallen, concentrating  
on the memories that crowded his mind. The first time he had seen  
Tess, the look in her eyes when he'd shown up at her apartment  
building and asked her out, the glorious sensation of homecoming  
the first time they had made love. He had cried with happiness  
afterward and frightened her, but she had come to understand. As  
she'd tried to understand everything about him.

Richie's weight returned to the bed and he flinched, breath  
hissing, as a warm, wet cloth gently washed him. He was sore, and  
knew this kind of thing sometimes took longer to heal than  
traumatic injury. He'd speculated that the emotional state the  
injury was received in affected the healing.

Richie stopped when he showed pain, so he whispered roughly.

"S'okay, Rich. It feels good." and it did, to have that care  
applied to him. It had been so long since he'd taken the  
submissive role, he'd forgotten what it felt like to let someone   
take care of him for a change.

Very, very gently Richie finished what he was doing. When he  
drew the cloth away the cool air seemed to focus on that wet  
patch of skin and Duncan suppressed a shiver.

"Mac?" Richie lay down beside him, matching his position,  
catching his hand and bringing both up between the two of them.  
"You okay?"

Duncan opened his eyes and a small smile came to his lips.

"I'm fine, Rich. Content. And how are you?" he met his eyes,  
hoping that he wouldn't see any regrets or disgust.

He didn't. Richie just shrugged a little, his blue eyes  
thoughtful.

"Surprised, I guess." he answered honestly. "I liked it, and  
I didn't think I would. Or that I should. It still feels weird."

"It never feels quite natural to me when it starts, but then  
it feels so good I don't care." Duncan smiled faintly.

Richie shook his head.

"I don't think I'll ever understand that. That you like  
that. You're so..."

"Macho?" Duncan suggested. "Butch? I know. I can't explain  
it. I've learned to just accept it."

"I don't know if I could." Richie's hand tightened on his.  
Duncan squeezed back.

"You don't have to." he said it like a promise. 

It was getting cooler in the room. Duncan looked around,  
realized it was getting dark again.

"How long have you been here?" he sat up, crossing his legs,  
unselfconscious about his nudity. Richie watched him, muscles  
rippling as he leaned back on his arms and stretched, with an  
appreciation he'd never felt before. He didn't believe he'd never  
seen how beautiful Duncan was. Now he could see what women like  
Tessa saw in him. 

"Since yesterday evening." Richie said, and Duncan looked  
confused. "You were behind the couch." he added helpfully. Duncan  
winced and a thought occurred to Richie. "You were drinking some  
truly horrible stuff, Mac. Do you remember what it was?"

"Absinthe." Duncan shook his head at his own stupidity.  
"It's poisonous, and illegal . I guess Connor isn't the only one  
to die of alcohol poisoning now."

Richie considered that.

"Ouch. I should have been here sooner. How many times did  
you die?"

"I remember at least two." Duncan sighed, appalled at his  
own foolishness. "You did what I wanted you to, Rich. Don't go  
guilt tripping on this."

"I won't." he knew he probably couldn't have stopped him  
anyways. And it had led to this incredible experience.

One-of-a-kind experience?

"Uh, Mac?" Duncan was scooting carefully to the edge of the  
bed, with the intention of getting a shower. He looked back and  
Richie saw the sudden worry in his eyes. 

"Yeah, Rich?"

"This..." he fumbled for words, sat up and gestured at  
Duncan. "Will we ever...I mean..."

Duncan came back, sitting in front of him, leaning close,  
eyes clear now, lucid. His breath touched Richie's lips when he  
spoke.

"If you ever want to, Rich, I'll be ready."

There wasn't anything Richie could say to that. He didn't  
think he'd ever want to do this again, but Duncan was leaving the  
door open. The back door, he thought, and had to suppress a  
smile. To give his mouth something else to do he leaned to kiss  
Duncan.

It was a sweet kiss, strengthening their bonding. When they  
came up for air Duncan smiled and shook his head, hair swinging  
in his face.

"I thought so." he chuckled, and then he left the bed,  
padding to the bathroom. 

Richie lay back, wondering what that meant.

After a shower Mac called room service for some food, and a  
late maid service that came while they ate. Richie was  
embarrassed when the older woman changed the sheets, but Duncan  
seemed unconcerned. After dinner Richie took a shower and came  
out to find Mac in bed, covered warmly. When Richie stepped into  
the room he held out a hand.

Richie hesitated.

"Just to sleep." Duncan said quietly. "One more night beside  
you." 

"To keep the demons at bay?" Richie wasn't sure where that  
phrase had come from, but it seemed apt. Duncan nodded. "I'm  
happy to." wearing boxers, Richie slid into the bed, found that  
Mac had put on silk pajama bottoms, appreciated the courtesy. He  
tuned onto his side away from Mac and snuggled close, feeling his  
friend's arms come tightly around him.

He closed his eyes. He was warm, and safe and sated. Duncan  
was a pleasant weight against him. He went to sleep.

Duncan's shaking sobs woke him once, but now he knew what to  
do and did it without hesitation, rolling over and holding him  
close and stroking his hair until the storm passed.

He spent the rest of the night with Duncan lying across his  
chest, holding onto him like an anchor in a storm.

Tomorrow Duncan would have to face his first night alone and  
sober, but tonight Richie would give him whatever comfort he  
needed.


End file.
